SWTOR: The Empire's Fist
by The Red Captain
Summary: Based on the Warrior and Inquisitor story lines from the mmorpg, Star Wars: The Old Republic, The Empire's Fist focuses on two rising Sith named Cyrack and Adelram. However, their rise to power meets new obstacles as events unfolded differently than in the SWTOR online game. New plots form in the shadows as new alliances forge, leaving Cyrack and Adelram fugitives of the Empire...
1. The Disgrace

SWTOR: The Empire's Fist

Chapter One:

The Disgrace

Adelram really hated Overseer Harkun. The bastard had made his life a living hell during his trials on Korriban, and continued to do so after he had become Lord Zash's apprentice. Adelram always thought that one day, he would come back to Korriban as a member of the Dark Council, just to make Harkun grovel at his feet before snapping his neck for the simple satisfaction of hearing his whimpering voice be cut off by the sound of his cervical vertebrae being crushed.

Three months after passing his trials, Adelram found himself once again sitting in Harkun's office. Harkun sat behind his desk with his eyes locked on the datapad in front of him. Adelram sat opposite from him, waiting impatiently for the awkward silence to be broken by any kind of conversation.

Harkun reached his left hand to grab the glass cup that had been several inches from the datapad. Adelram raised his index finger from his folded arms, commanding the force to slide the glass a bit further away from Harkun's hand. The overseer grasped at nothing momentarily, not noticing the relocation of his drink until he pulled his eyes away from his datapad. He returned an agitated look, before firmly swiping the glass cup and taking a sip and replacing it on the desk.

Adelram closed his eyes and drifted into thought. The past three months began to replay in his mind.

Upon completing his trials, Adelram was promoted from the rank of acolyte to apprentice. He was chosen by Lord Zash to follow and learn through her teachings. Before he had been her apprentice for a full day, she whisked him away on a shuttle to the Imperial capitol planet, Drumond Kaas. Once they arrived at the Sith Sanctum, Adelram quickly became a busy apprentice. However, it was not Zash's teachings that had occupied his time.

Instead, Zash began to reveal that she had been working on a big "rise-to-glory" plan that would make her and her new apprentice more powerful than ever. But for this plan to be set in motion, there were a few "obstacles" that needed to be dealt with. The biggest of those obstacles came in the form of a cyborg Sith named Darth Skotia. Zash had suffered ill feeling towards Skotia since her days as an acolyte on Korriban, and no amount of success was ever enough to get him off her back.

But everyone knew of their dramatic rivalry, so if either of them turned up dead…. the other would be the prime suspect. That's where Adelram began to fit into her scheme. Zash spent the next few weeks sending Adelram to different regions of Drumond Kaas' surface in search of particular items that might even out the fight between a mighty Darth and a mere apprentice. While Skotia's connection to the force was strong, a majority of his strength relied on his cybernetic implants. Also, Skotia was always escorted by his own two personal Trandoshan bodyguards, Skarsk and Skeesk. So even getting close to Skotia would be a challenge for Adelram. At least it would have been, if Zash had not devised a genius plan to gain the upper hand.

Throughout his weeks of travel, Adelram had been ordered to retrieve an ancient Trandoshan tablet of leadership to bend the will of the bodyguards and an anti-cyborg prototype weapon to render Skotia's implants counter-effective. .

Equipped with the relic, the anti-cyborg weapon, a pep talk from Zash, and the companionship of a Deshade named Khem Val, Adelram soon found himself entering Skotia's private office with a thirst for blood.

Skotia sat behind is desk at the back of the room, with each of his bodyguards stationed in front of the two corners.

Skeesk, the Trandoshan on Adelram's right turned back to Skotia and spoke in his native tongue.

"I see," Skotia responded, acknowledging that he was aware of Adelram's presence. Skeesk continued with a question, to which Skotia answered: "Nothing…yet. What makes this slave so bold as to enter my chambers? Tell me slave, are you insane or do you have a death wish?"

The term _"slave"_ had lost its sting to Adelram a long time ago. Harkun called him by no other name, constantly trying to insult Adelram by reminding him of his childhood of slavery. It never got to the apprentice though. He had learned to use his past to fuel his hatred, empowering his connection to the dark side of the force. After all, it was the same hatred that drove him to choke the life out of his former masters, leading to the discovery of his potential in the force.

"I've been asked to kill you," Adelram replied, folding his arms in front of his chest. "And I hate to disappoint."

"Heh," Skotia laughed. "Skeesk? Kill him."

Skeesk accepted his master's order as both Trandoshans began to move in on Adelram and Khem Val. Reaching into the folds of his robes, Adelram retaliated by revealing the tablet to the guards. Both pairs of eyes grew wide, as a wave of confusion overtook them. They looked to each other for a grasp of the situation, frantically spitted the Trandoshan language to each other. While Adelram did not comprehend that language, he knew precisely where this was going.

Suddenly, the Trandoshans grew quiet. They both turned their eyes back to Zash's apprentice and displayed their obedience to their new master with an honoring bow. Skotia raised the eyebrow that hovered over his cybernetic eye and grinned.

"Heh, clever. Zash must have stayed up many a night to think of that one. I suppose you'll be sending my bodyguards away now. Or maybe you'll order them to kill me?"

Adelram was smart enough to know that the Trandoshans were no match for a Darth, and that Skotia welcomed the idea of killing his former escorts as punishment for their disloyalty. But when it came to their lives, he could care less. He knew they would probably die, but perhaps they could soften him up a little and even out the battle a bit more.

"It should at least be entertaining," Adelram began to order the Trandoshans. "Tear him to pieces."

Skeesk and Skarsk drew their vibroswords and began to charge towards the cyborg Sith, who calmly rose from his seat to face his former servants. He effortlessly waved his right hand, sending Skeesk flying through the corridor until he met the wall. With his hand still held open, he kept Skeesk pinned against the wall before closing his fingers, crushing the Trandoshan's throat.

In fear, Skarsk turned to escape, but with another swift wave of Skotia's hand, he was launched into the opposite direction at a higher speed than Skeesk was thrown. The poor Trandoshan died at the instant moment his skull smashed into the wall. Skotia stepped around his desk, focusing his attention and a deadly glare to Adelram.

"You shouldn't have done that," boasted Skotia as he rolled his shoulders back as if loosening his body. "They bodyguards…they're nothing. Just for show. But you subverted my authority…took my slaves from me. And that…makes me angry. And killing you…will be over too soon."

Skotia bent his knees as if he were preparing to lunge, but paused and cocked his head at a slight angle as if a new idea had struck his attention.

"No…I think you're going to have to suffer first," he threatened, then reached to his waist to draw his lightsaber. He held the hilt away from himself and ignited weapon as a bright red blade jumped to life and hummed with electricity.

"You think yourself intimidating? You're barely half a man…let alone half a Sith. There is no amount of pain you can deal that I can't return twice as much."

Skotia smirked and deactivated his lightsaber, catching Adelram off guard…off guard enough to ignite his own saber as caution to any move that came next. His nerves began to pulse in anticipation of the Darth's battle plan. He had already seen how easy he dealt with the Trandoshans. So how creative would Skotia get in attempt to deal with him?

"You know," Skotia spoke slowly. "Your first mistake was leaving the door open behind you." Adelram glanced over his shoulder at the entrance, expecting to see a horde of reinforcements rushing in to protect the Darth. But he saw nothing, and before he could turn back to his target, his chest was slammed by the will of the force, knocking him backwards off his feet and in the air. He wasn't sure how far he had flown, but he knew he had traveled well past the door.

Skotia's game was unpleasantly clear now. The coward was going to draw the fight out into the main hall of the Sith Sanctum, where dozens of guards and countless other superior Sith would be witness. Adelram regained himself, and sure enough…he was in the main hall. He could feel the weight of dozens of eyes wandering why the apprentice was tumbling out of Skotia's office with his lightsaber drawn.

"Hmm…hahahahaha." Skotia's low laughter erupted from his chambers as he emerged with his arms folded in front of his chest. "I admire your courage slave…but a brave worm is still a worm."

Sanctum security had closed in on the situation, observing, but ready to intervene. Skotia motioned them to Adelram and Khem Val, who had also been blasted backwards.

"I knew one day Zash would try to kill me, but I never would've imagined that she would be so gutless as to send her apprentice. Guards, take this whelp and throw him in a cell and find something to contain that deshade."

Adelram scrambled to his feet to defend himself but was surrounded immediately by several lightsabers held by guards. Looking to his left, he saw that even more guards were making their way to capture Khem Val…who didn't take that too well. Khem balled his fist and swung his arm out, meeting the jaw of the closest poor guard. The guard's back hit the ground, and he barely got the chance to regain himself before Khem's vibrosword came crashing down into his chest. Before the deshade could pull his weapon from the torso, he was slammed by one guard after the other as they tried to bring him down. At least eight had piled on top of him before they had enough control to hold him down.

Adelram deactivated his lightsaber, then let it fall to the ground. The realization sunk in that his assassination attempt had failed.

Over the next few days, he was held in a cell somewhere on Drumond Kaas until the Dark Council was ready to decide his fate. When brought before the Council on Korriban, it seemed apparent that the decision would be made to execute him and pretend he never existed. But Darth Skotia changed that when he explained what he had meant at the time of the battle. He wanted Adelram to be stripped of his right to be Sith, and bound to Korriban where he would be a servant to the lowest of the low…the acolytes. This would also allow a close eye to be kept on him. To Sith like Skotia, dishonor on that level was a fate worse than death. Unfortunately, Adelram felt the same way.

Darth Marr, head of the council, agreed with these terms. So, he was order to stay at the academy on Korriban with no clue what had become of Khem Val or his master, Zash.

Months passed, and apprentice of the Sith became slave once more. He was used as a messenger for Sith Lords and an escort to the pathetic acolytes eagerly trying to pass their trials. Any time he stepped out of line, he was held in another cell until he was needed again. He found himself there a few times, after losing his patience with some of the acolytes and making the decision that the galaxy would be a better place without them.

He began to wander…

…when will this end?


	2. The Murderer

The Empire's Fist

Chapter Two:

The Murderer

Cyrack emerged from the office of his new master, Darth Baras, and began his walk to the office of Overseer Harkun. Previously, he had been assigned to an overseer named Tremel. But that had changed two days before, when he stood at the judgement of Baras. The Darth was not pleased with the sloppy upbringing of Cyrack as an acolyte. Where other acolytes had taken the long road of tradition to complete their trials, Cyrack was given an easy short cut by Overseer Tremel. Darth Baras defined this as "the actions of a traitor". He then ordered the acolyte to kill the traitor and bring his severed head back as proof. However, Cyrack would have to be discreet. Baras gave no promise of immunity from punishment for murder on academy grounds.

With no hesitation, Cyrack made haste to Tremel's office. Thoughts of an easy victory were already pacing through his head. After all, how much of a challenge could Tremel be? He was a small, aging man, probably in his late forties. At six-six, Cyrack easily towered over him by at least a foot. And with Cyrack's large, muscular shape, there was no way the scrawny man could overpower his strength.

He entered Tremel's office chambers to find the overseer sitting behind his desk. The mentor welcomed him, but looked a bit taken back.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," Tremel started. "Has Baras sent you back to me?"

"I'm here to kill you," Cyrack responded. He had been careful not to draw any suspicion to himself as he journeyed through the academy, but he saw no need to mask his intentions from his victim.

"Then I've been outplayed," said Tremel. "Baras has the authority, but I did not think he would do something this overt. Either I die, or he forces me to kill you and destroy my own plan…a master's trick."

Tremel rose from his seat and stepped around the desk, talking as he positioned himself closer to Cyrack.

"Very well, you have your orders acolyte. Know that it gives me no pleasure to kill you."

"What makes you so sure you're going to kill me?" Cyrack questioned.

"You are strong acolyte, as strong as any I've seen come through the academy…but you're not Sith yet. I'll try to make this quick and painless. It's the least I can do."

Not a second after he finished speaking, he drew his saber with a flash of his hand and raised the red blade above his head. He was fast, but when he tried to bring the attack down on Cyrack, the acolyte reached out and caught Tremel's wrist with ease. Tremel tugged his arm away but could not escape the brute's grasp.

Cyrack, still holding Tremel's wrist, reached over his shoulder to draw his vibrosword. It was no lightsaber, but it held its own against them. He noticed the irony. Tremel had sent him into the Tomb of Ajunta Pall to retrieve the ancient war blade from an old Sith armory as soon as he had arrived on the planet. While it stood as nothing in comparison to a lightsaber, it was still an advanced blade that Tremel believed would grant an upper hand against fellow acolytes. Now, the very weapon Tremel had sent him for would be the overseer's undoing.

He activated the blade and threw Tremel's wrist back, causing the mid-aged man to stumble back. Tremel quickly regained his footing and charged back with his saber slashing at Cyrack. The lightsaber and vibrosword clashed repeatedly, meeting each other and bouncing off just to meet again with each swing. Tremel grunted with each attack he made, putting his effort into each attempt. Cyrack on the other hand, calmly maneuvered his sword without breaking a sweat. He was an exceptional swordsman, blocking Tremel's strikes with ease and throwing his own jabs and swipes to keep his opponent honest.

"You can't win acolyte," Tremel taunted. "You may be young and quick, but like I said…you are not Sith yet."

Tremel spun and brought his saber in a backhanded swing, attempting to catch Cyrack off guard…but stopped short when the acolyte once again caught his attack with his bare hand. This time, Cyrack's hand joined Tremel's on the hilt of the lightsaber.

"Perhaps you misunderstood what I said Tremel," Cyrack spat as he leaned in close to Tremel's face, leaving only an inch between their faces. "You're not Sith anymore either."

Cyrack then stepped into Tremel, leading with his shoulder. Thanks to the height advantage, his shoulder made a crushing impact with Tremel's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards and losing the hold he had on his lightsaber. The acolyte started to step slowly towards his former superior, now holding his own training blade and Tremel's lightsaber.

Tremel threw his open palm forward in a desperate attempt to blow Cyrack backwards, but the brute simply lowered his shoulder and held his ground against the weak will of the force. Tremel's eyes widened and he stepped backwards until his back was against the wall, and finally…he realized it was over.

"No…I'm…. amazed…." he stammered. "I knew you were strong in the force, but not…like this. You're more than ready to challenge Vemrin. Baras won't be able to deny that now."

Tremel spoke of Vemrin, another acolyte that rivaled Cyrack for the right to be Baras' apprentice.

"He'll have the satisfaction of my death, but I die knowing my success…go ahead…end this." Tremel knelt before his conqueror, lowering his head in shameful defeat. Cyrack stepped forward and aimed the tip of the lightsaber at the weakened man's chest.

"You are my greatest kill to date. I will rejoice in your blood." Cyrack claimed as he thrust the red blade into his now-former overseer. Tremel's face winced with pain before his eyes closed and his lifeless corpse slumped over.

Cyrack deactivated his lightsaber and examined the hilt. Nice craftsmanship and design, but it simply did not fit his style. It was sleek and slender, and he would surely lose his grip on it in battle. He desired something with a bit more bulk. A heavy hilt that was just as powerful deactivated as it was active.

He recovered the overseer's head as instructed, then made his exit.

Over the next two days, Cyrack completed his training after Darth Baras had appointed Overseer Harkun to oversee the remaining trials. He journeyed into the Tomb of Naga Sadow, where he was instructed to find an ancient lightsaber with the help of treasure hunter the academy had captured. She was a quirky, blue Twi'lek named Vette, and though her sarcastic comments irritated everyone around her, she amused Cyrack. In the tombs, Cyrack and Vette were ambushed by Vemrin in a desperate attempt to win back Baras' favor.

Cyrack had handled Tremel, a Sith Overseer, with ease. Still sporting the confidence from that kill, and allied by the dual pistol-wielding Vette, the battle was far too easy. He wiped the floor with Vemrin, only to spill his opponent's blood right back onto the same floor.

Once they had found the saber they were sent for, Cyrack immediately fell in love with it. The firm handle and weight matched every preference he wanted for his weapon. Baras sensed the connection and rewarded his new apprentice by allowing him to keep the ancient weapon.

Vette was also granted freedom from the cage that she had been kept in as a reward for her service. To keep her from causing the academy trouble, she was ordered to remain at Cyrack's side no matter where he went. At first, it was like trading cage for chains. But Cyrack removed the shock collar the jailer had put on her, so she decided to give him an optimistic chance. However, she knew she had no choice.

Cyrack entered Harkun's office, joining Harkun and a stranger that he had never seen.

"Ah, hello Cyrack," Harkun welcomed. "You're just in time, I have something for you two to take care of."

"Very well," Cyrack replied. "I'll go find Vette."

"No, no. I meant you and the slave here" He nodded his head to the stranger, who glanced at Cyrack and looked him over, measuring him up. The red-skinned stranger stood only a few inches shorter than him, with an average body build. It was rare for Cyrack to meet another of the same race, Sith Pureblood.

The Pureblood race was best known as the original Sith, originating from Korriban with bright red skin. While it was unusual to Cyrack to meet another Pureblood, it was even weirder how similar they looked. Both came close to the same shade of red, though Cyrack was a little darker than the stranger, but their eyes were the same demonic yellow. Also, neither one of them had any hair or flair on the face.

"Wow," the stranger remarked. "Thank you Harkun for finding what probably could be the brother I never knew about. Finally, you're good for something."

For a split second, Cyrack pondered the idea that this could be kin to him, but recognized the sarcasm in the idea and smirked.

"Silence whelp," Harkun spat. "I could sit on my hands with wear a blindfold, and I would still do better for this academy than you have in your whole life."

Harkun then tapped on his datapad before looking back to the two Purebloods.

"Alright, an Imperial official was visiting the planet to check on his son, who is an acolyte at the academy. While the son is of no importance, the official is a crucial piece in one of the Empire's latest projects. It would be in the academy's best interest if nothing happens to this man. He'll be landing on the surface near Lord Renning's research outpost, and I want you two to escort him to the temple. Cyrack, it will be your last assignment before leaving for Drumond Kaas with your new master. And slave, it would give me a reason not to strangle you out of boredom."

"Does he have a name?" Cyrack asked. "Or is his name really slave?"

"It's Adelram." Said the stranger.

"It doesn't matter," spat Harkun.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it doesn't."

"He asked."

"SHUT UP!" Harkun finally lost his poise after being poked. Cyrack smiled again with amusement from the two bickering.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go Adelram. Let's meet this fancy official."

Adelram nodded to Cyrack and stepped toward the exit of Harkun's office. Harkun sat at his desk and reached for the cup that rest on the table top. Before he could grasp it, the cup slid away from him. Cyrack raised an eyebrow with curiosity. But when Harkun snarled and directed a deadly glare at Adelram's back, he instantly understood what had happened.

The two Purebloods marched out the academy doors, starting their first mission together. They might not have known it then…but it would be far from their last.


End file.
